


Smutember Day 10 Pegging/Anal

by WitchOfTheWestCountry



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Bondage, Edging, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchOfTheWestCountry/pseuds/WitchOfTheWestCountry
Summary: Lucas picks up a domme and gets pegged





	Smutember Day 10 Pegging/Anal

**Author's Note:**

> A submission for Tumblr's Smutember 2017. Day 10

Her head hurt and there was something sticky on her face that made her skin itch.

Still half-conscious, Donna put her hand up to touch the worst spot, feeling tentatively with her eyes closed, and her fingers immediately encountered something viscous.

Cracking one eye slightly open she peered at the offending goo, the dark reddish brown substance coating her fingertips unmistakable even in the gloom.

There was a hard yet yielding surface beneath her, and Donna pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing as the throbbing in her head intensified. She was on a bed, she observed - one with sagging springs and a rusty frame that seemed to be in some sort of cell.

“What the fuck…..?”

She investigated her scalp gingerly, probing along her hairline with her clean hand, locating an egg-sized lump at the back of her head that sent a spike of agony shooting through through her skull.

“Shit!”

Her voice echoed off the bare walls, bouncing back at her.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Didn't mean ta hit ya that hard.”

The voice came from a darkened corner, and for the first time Donna realised she wasn't alone.

“Who's there?” she demanded.

The low chuckle that answered her made her fists clench, it’s tone carrying a smug satisfaction that rubbed her up the wrong way. Gritting her teeth, she challenged it.

“C’mon, you fucker! Show yourself!”

The shadows moved, a darker silhouette detaching itself and coming into the light.

Donna glared at the gangly man standing before her, assessing him. He was scrawny looking, dressed in filthy clothes. Drug addict? Maybe. He had the look of one, with his pale skin and the dark shadows clinging to the angles of his face, but there was also a bright intelligence and alertness to the shockingly blue eyes that regarded her with such hungry interest.

“You got a big mouth on ya,” he observed, strolling over to the bars that divided them. “Reckon you could put it to better use than that.”

Feeling at a disadvantage, Donna heaved herself to her feet, pulling herself up to her full height. The guy was tall, but so was she - especially in her heels. She saw his eyebrows raise briefly, but that sly smile didn’t leave his face.

She should have been scared, she knew, but Donna had been through a lot in her life, and not much scared her now. Instead of cowering at his suggestion, she smiled instead, causing those eyebrows to raise once more.

“I probably could. What did you have in mind?”

Struck dumb for a second at her boldness, the man stared at her, meeting her gaze for a split second before turning his attention to the rest of her. She knew how she looked: She hadn’t had chance to change after her last client, and her leather dress didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“What you do for a livin’ means you gotta dress like that?” he asked her, frowning. “You a stripper? A whore?”

“Not quite.”

She didn’t proffer any more information. She wanted to get some out of him first.

“Who are you, anyway?” she asked. “And why am I here?”

The man scratched the back of his head, still examining her with a boldness that would have made her feel uncomfortable if she weren’t used to it.

“I’m Lucas,” he told her absently. “An’ my family’s got big plans for ya. Shame though. You’re the best thing I done brought home for a long time…..”

He sighed and turned away.

“Still. Not much I can do about it,” he remarked, and for the first time Donna felt a stab of panic.

“Don’t go!” she called to his retreating back.

He hesitated.

“Stay and talk to me,” she suggested.

He turned back to her, the disbelief plain on his face.

“You wanna talk to me, huh?” he said. “An’ what would our topic o’ conversation be? Maybe you wantin’ to strike a deal? Maybe make some kind o’ bargain to get you outta here?”

A faint grin touched his lips. Donna wondered how many people had been in this cell before her - how many times people had tried to bargain with him. She shrugged.

“Possibly,” she admitted. “Why - would you be open to suggestions?”

Lucas glanced at the doorway, looking shifty, but he approached the bars again.

“I don’t know,” he said. “What kind o’ thing would you be willin’ to do?”

Donna smiled.

“Truthfully? Just about anything…..”

 

Lucas unlocked the cell door and came inside, locking it behind him. As requested, he’d brought her backpack and it hung from one of his long slender fingers, but he didn’t give it to her. Instead he snatched it back out of her reach when she made a grab at it, scrutinising it suspiciously.

“Why d’you want this thing? Ain’t nothin but clothes in there…..”

“You obviously didn’t dig deep enough,” said Donna.

“You ain’t got a gun in there, have ya? Cuz I'm tellin’ ya now, guns don’t scare me none,” he bragged.

Donna smiled again.

“No. There’s no gun. I promise.”

“Well, ok then. Here ya go. If it makes ya feel better you can have it.”

He handed it over to her, seeming impressed with his own generosity, and she took it gratefully. Having the bag back in her possession didn’t give her much of an advantage, but there were some useful things inside and she felt better knowing she had it.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” asked Lucas, trying to appear nonchalant. “What we gonna do?”

“I assumed you wanted sex. Is that right?”

“Well, yeah...was kinda hopin’....”

“There's your answer then. Take your clothes off.”

He grinned uncertainly, an expression that was a mixture of delight and disbelief.

“You serious? We gonna fuck?”

“Yes. If that’s what you want.”

With an exclamation of glee, Lucas fumbled at the zip of his hoodie, starting to strip with feverish haste.

“Fuck, I  _ knew _ there was a reason I picked you. You're some kinda pro, right? Gonna gimme the fuckin’ o’ my life?”

“That's the plan,” said Donna, watching as he tossed his hoodie aside and shucked his t-shirt over his head. “But I have to warn you, if you want the full benefit of my experience, we have to do it my way….”

“Yeah, yeah...whatever….”

He wasn't really listening, all the blood having rushed from his brain to his cock, but Donna was accustomed to that.

Despite the state of his clothes, she was relieved to see that he appeared to be clean enough underneath, his body pale from lack of sunlight but apparently in reasonable health.

He paused in the act of undoing his jeans, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Ain't you gonna get undressed?” he asked.

Donna smiled and began to undo the zip that ran down the length of the dress she wore.

Reassured, Lucas stripped off his sneakers and socks, pushing his jeans down around his ankles and doing an awkward shuffle to rid himself of them.

Standing there clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs, Lucas watched as she peeled her dress off. Underneath she wore her “work” underwear - stockings and a rubber garter belt, with a shiny thong and lace up corset. It was a far-cry from the comfortable cotton panties and undershirt she normally wore on her days off, but it had the desired effect: Lucas's hard-on made an obvious tent in his underwear, straining the waistband away from his belly.

Donna kept her boots on. She always got a feeling of power and control wearing boots and she needed all the confidence she could get. Stiletto heels stabbing into the cement floor, she stalked towards him.

“You sure take this fuckin’ seriously,” he muttered, staring at the way her cleavage crowded out of the top of her corset.

Donna laughed, stroking the bulge of his cock beneath the fabric of his shorts, running one long fingernail along its length thoughtfully.

“Hmmm….very impressive,” she remarked, and it bobbed at the compliment.

“C’mon,” he complained, squirming impatiently. “Get on with it!”

She flicked him where she judged the head to be, making him yelp.

“Be quiet!” she ordered.

“Hey…..”

His face clouded angrily, his mouth twisting into a snarl.

Another flick, and he shut his mouth, looking shocked. Donna smirked - he was a fast learner.

She hooked a finger under the elastic of his waistband and pulled it out, peering inside. His cock was clean, the dense flesh of his helmet already dark with blood, and as she watched a clear drop of pre-cum oozed from the dimple formed by the eye.

“You’re very eager, aren’t you?” she said. “Are you sure you’re going to last?”

“Stop fuckin’ around,” he whined. “It ain’t fair!”

Pressing her lips together in disapproval, Donna delved into his underwear, snagging his cock behind the head with the ring made by her finger and thumb.

“It’s not fair that I was hit in the head and brought here,” she observed. “But I haven’t complained, have I?”

She tightened her grip slightly, watching his face tighten simultaneously, before easing the pressure off.

“Now look here - “ he began, but stopped abruptly as she ducked her head down, curling her tongue around the tip of his cock. Lucas let out a low moan, and she felt him settle his hands onto her shoulders, lifting his hips to press himself more fully into the wet cavern of her mouth.

He was a horny little bastard, she’d say that for him, and as she worked her lips down his shaft she fumbled inside his shorts to feel the heft of his balls. They were tight and swollen, full of pent-up spunk, and she wondered when he’d last had sex - or even if he’d ever had it at all. His frustration would work in her favour, and the plan that had formed in the back of her mind the minute he’d made his first suggestive comment would ensure that she had her fun even as she kept her side of the bargain.

Donna worked carefully, teasing him with a skill learned from years of experience, and by the time the circle of her mouth had reached as far down his stiff prick as she could comfortably manage, the muscles in his thighs were trembling with excitement.

Glancing up, she saw his head was tipped back, eyes closed and lips parted. Giving him a final suck she withdrew, watching his expression of bliss shift sharply to one of disappointment.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, eyeing her with betrayal.

“Calm down,” she instructed. “I just need to get something. Lie on the bed.”

She turned without waiting for his assent after giving the order, and had to stifle a snigger as she heard him scuffle to obey, the rusty bedsprings squeaking as he lay himself down.

“So, uh, what you gettin’?” asked Lucas.

Giving him her brightest smile, she dug into the bottom of the backpack. There was a false bottom with a concealed zip that had come in useful many times, and from it she produced the blued steel handcuffs she’d been given by a police acquaintance of hers. They swung from her thumb, reflecting the meagre light off in bright flashes.

Again, Lucas looked taken aback.

“Who’re they for?”

“Why, for you of course!”

“Fuckin’ handcuffs?” he yelled. “No fuckin’ way!”

“Oh!” Donna let her face fall, appearing crestfallen. “But….you’re kind of scary…. I’d feel a lot safer. I hardly know you, and I don’t know what you might do to me in the heat of the moment. I’m just being careful.”

Lucas’s fists were clenching and unclenching, and he still looked furious, but he also looked desperate.

“Oh yeah? So I let you handcuff me an’ you skedaddle outta here, huh? That yer plan?”

“No! I told you I’d fuck you, and fuck you I will. But not without these!”

“Shit!”

Lucas punched the wall - actually punched it like a little kid having a tantrum - but he made no move to get up and his erection was undiminished.

“Okay! If that’s what you wanna do, fuckin’ do it. But don’t try anythin’ funny or I swear you’ll be sorry!”

He wagged a threatening finger at her, trying to claw back some sort of control. Donna didn’t let the relief show on her face, but inside she was triumphant. The last thing she wanted was this guy getting carried away and trying to throttle her half way through, and if he was cuffed she’d be a lot more relaxed. Plus, she had big plans for the boy.

 

Lucas may have been sullen and sulky, but he was still cuffed, and Donna stepped back to admire her handiwork.

There was something about a helpless male that sparked off her libido in a big way, and seeing her latest victim handcuffed to the bed in what was meant to be her prison added a delicious irony to the situation.

His arms were stretched up over his head, skinny wrists encircled by the police grade restraints, fastened around an upright strut of the bedposts.

“If I gotta be cuffed this better be fuckin’ good…” he warned. 

The undisguised resentment on his face was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, and she smiled at him warmly.

“Of course it will be,” she told him. “I know what I’m doing. But you’re hardly in a position to start making demands, are you?”

She was rewarded by a look of shock that left him open-mouthed, but she didn’t dwell on it any longer than necessary. The male ego could be a tricky thing, and she didn’t want to waste time gloating. It was time to get to work.

Donna climbed onto the bed, positioning herself between the lanky spread of his thighs and settling herself comfortably.

Her backpack was just within reach, and she leaned off to one side to hook it closer. There was a large bottle of lube nestled in the bottom, and she retrieved it, holding it up to show him.

“What's that for?” he asked as she squirted a healthy dose into the palm of her hand.

“Just easing the way a little,” she said, forming a loose fist and sliding it over the head of his cock.

The handcuffs rattled as his back arched, the warm gel coating the sinewy length of his dick. Donna twisted her wrist, applying a hint of pressure, the snug cuff of her fingers encircling him and drawing upwards.

“Is that nice?” she asked, and got a nod in response, Lucas's upper teeth digging into his lower lip.

The veins in his cock pulsed, his quickened heartbeat tapping a Morse code of excitement against the palm of her hand..

“Good. Because here's where the fun really starts….”

 

Donna Matrix wasn't the name on her birth certificate, but it was the name she had on her business cards. Her mother still called her Jane, as did the most of the rest of the world, but her clients called her Mistress.

She'd been working under her assumed name for 5 years now, punishing naughty boys, mothering needy ones and generally dominating all who were prepared to pay for her services. Whilst many people might have looked down on her choice of career it was a lot more fun than working in a bank and much better paid. She knew this from experience.

What she also knew from experience was how to reduce a man to a quivering bundle of straining nerves and sexual frustration, a technique she was using right now.

 

She'd been edging him for 20 minutes. He'd gone through a whole range of emotions, touching on anger and frustration before slipping over into bargaining, but it wasn't until he'd gone through desperation and out the other side to pleading that she set to work in earnest.

His wrists were red and chafed in the enclosure of his cuffs, and he pulled against them with his back arched letting out little huffs of breath at her every touch. She'd stripped off his shorts whilst remaining partially dressed herself, bringing home his exposure and helplessness and allowing her to watch the restless shift of his abdomen, the satisfying twitch of his muscles. She could tell he was nearly where she wanted him now: He'd reached a trance-like state of arousal, every nerve-ending alight to sensation, his desire to cum overwhelming every other need in his now narrow little world. This was how she liked it. This is what she’d worked for: the moment of utter surrender that meant she was fully in control. She held his cock beneath the head and watched his face as she rubbed the flat palm of her hand against the tip, tracing a merciless circle.

“Pleasepleaseplease….”

He whimpered, hips twisting, head falling back against the thin pillow, the tendons in his arms standing out as he tugged against his restraints.

Donna took a chance, mopping a puddle of lube up onto an already greasy finger. Lucas's legs were around her waist, pulling her snugly up to him, but she quickly wormed her hand down her belly and probed with the slippery fingertip.

His eyes opened wide with shock as she found the tight pucker of his asshole, and before he could protest she'd slipped the end of the digit in.

“What're ya doin’?” he bleated, his face taking on a look of horror as he clenched  instinctively.

“Relax,” soothed Donna, insinuating her finger further. “It's a trick I learned.”

He opened his mouth to complain but she felt him open around her questing finger, making a concerted effort to let her explore despite his frightened expression. There was a glint of interest in his gaze, a hint of eagerness that betrayed him as Donna gently thrust in deeper, seeking out the spongy swell of his prostate. He gasped as she found it, jaw dropping down onto his chest.

“Holy fuck, what's  _ that?”  _ he hissed as she began to stroke it.

“It's your prostate gland,” she told him. “It does a lot of things, but right now all you need to know is that it's a kind of g-spot for men….”

She crooked her finger slightly, caressing the sensitive area.

“How does that feel?” she asked.

She didn't really need a reply as he was melting beneath the calm massage of her ministrations, surrendering to the undignified process with more than acceptance - he was welcoming it.

“Uuhhh...s’good.. ..” He confirmed, sagging back into the threadbare mattress.

“Do you want to cum, Lucas?” she asked, making her voice gentle and wheedling.

He nodded, the motion frantic, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.

“Will you let me do whatever I want if it means you get to cum?”

“Yes!”

“Good boy. Wait a moment….”

She released him, removing both her greasy hands, and he let out a noise of disappointment that was almost a sob.

He lifted his head, regarding her with bleary curiosity as she dug into her backpack once more.

 

“Uh-uh! No way! I ain’t down for that!”

Lucas shook his head, trying to maintain a stern, no-nonsense expression as Donna stepped into the harness. The dildo she’d chosen was the smallest she owned, the one she kept for training purposes, and many of her clients would have scoffed at the slender length, but Lucas was evidently a butt-virgin and the look of poorly-disguised panic on his face transcended any authority he might have been trying to exude.

“Calm down, dear,” said Donna. “And trust me. If you liked what I did with my finger, you’re going to  _ love _ this.”

“No I won’t!” he insisted.

“How do you know? Have you done it before?”

“No!” he retorted in disgust. “I don’t do no gay shit like that….”

“How can it be gay if a woman is doing it?” asked Donna reasonably. “And why do you think the gay guys love it so much?”

He had no response, but she kindly answered for him.

“Because it feels good…” she said. “In fact, I’ve been told it feels  _ great…. _ ”

She climbed back onto the bed, and there was a brief struggle as Lucas attempted to push her off with his foot, but Donna was in no mood to be argued with.

“Stop being so silly,” she said. “A big strong boy like you, making such a fuss?”

She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

Lucas eyed the waggling pink rubber that protruded from her crotch, digging his heels into the mattress and pushing himself up the bed away from her nervously.

“Honestly, don’t panic, Lucas,” said Donna, taking him in hand once more. “I won’t hurt you. And if you really hate it, I’ll stop.”

“You promise?” he asked plaintively.

“I promise,” said Donna, tracing a cross over the top of her left breast earnestly.

“Okay….but you better not tell nobody….”

“Darling, I’ve entertained some of the most powerful men in the state of Louisiana and nobody is any the wiser. Now relax, and enjoy….”

 

From her experience, most self-proclaimed hetero men needed some kind of justification before they could surrender to the pleasures of pegging. Most of the time they were keen to try it, but needed an excuse. Sometimes in her work the incentive was: “I don't want to, but Mistress Matrix has ordered me to.” Sometimes it might be: “I don't want to, but I've been a bad boy and this is my punishment.”

As far as Lucas was concerned, the rationalisation seemed to be: “I don't want to, but I'm handcuffed to the bed so I don't have much choice.”

Donna was pretty certain that no matter how forceful she was, if Lucas was determined not to be penetrated there was no way she'd be able to get near him, but as she applied a liberal handful of lube to 5-inch dildo he seemed to settle down and accept his fate.

He was staring up at the ceiling, his jaw set in a brave jut, apparently deciding to take the advice of Queen Victoria to lie back and think of England, but he still flinched when Donna’s finger made contact with his ass, squirming away as an almost delicate blush suffused his pale face.

Now was the time for her to be gentle, and Donna stroked the concave dip of his belly, soothing the jumping muscles as she slid the first finger in. It was laden with lube and she had fairly slim fingers, but she saw him press his lips together to stifle a squeak of consternation.

She went back to his prostate, teasing the juicy gland with her fingertip, feeling his tension flow away. His head rolled to the side slightly, his tightly closed eyelids fluttering.

Once he was sufficiently receptive, she added a second finger, opening him wider. His muscles fought against the intrusion, but Donna was prepared for this, using her left hand on his softening cock to distract him as she coated the inside of his rectum with the lube.

After a few minutes, she judged he was ready, and slowly withdrew her fingers.

“Stay calm,” she said in a soft voice. “Don't fight it…..”

Despite her words he tensed at the first touch of the dildo’s tip to the clenched knot of his hole. She nudged it patiently, watching his expressions change and flow through panic and fear and resolution.

Grasping his hipbones she eased forward with a fraction more force, feeling the compact bud begin to flower before panic set in, clamping him shut on the rounded knob.

“It's gonna hurt!”

He jerked away from her, hands fisting above the bracelets of the cuffs, the chain pulling taut around its post. 

“Not if you relax,” she told him, not moving as he settled down.

She saw him make a conscious decision: Saw his eyes squeeze shut, and he surprised her as she felt his body push against the silicone peg, taking the initiative.

A hoarse rumble ran raggedly through his chest, shoulders bracing against the threadbare mattress, and she let him slide over the alien object at his own pace, his knees bending even as they shook.

Donna had to admire his tenacity, and as his eyes were closed she allowed herself a small smile.

Lucas was holding his breath, she noticed, teeth gritted.

“It'll be easier if you breathe,” she suggested, and at her words he let it all out in an airy gust, panting as though he was giving birth.

“That’s it, good boy!” she said.

He flinched as her words of encouragement interrupted his concentration, but she was a third of the way inside him now and he made no move to eject her. Rather, now that he'd been given a degree of control, he seemed to open easier around the shaft, his knees open, pelvis rising as she tilted her own forward.

With a smooth roll of her hips she risked another push, and this time he was ready, sighing with unmistakable pleasure as she sank deeper, accepting the invader with far more relish than she’d expected.

“Is that better?” she asked, and he nodded absently, pushing against her, and with a sudden give and rush she was in up to the hilt.

“Ahhhhhh…..Fuck. That hits the spot….”

Lucas gave up all pretence of rebellion, clearly enjoying the experience.

With a grin, Donna raised herself up on her knees, gripping his thighs and rolling his legs up. He gasped as she pushed in deeper, using the upward curve of the dildo to hit the sweet spot before partially withdrawing and thrusting in again.

Watching his face to judge his response, Donna began to fuck him properly, using short, sharp shoves. Lucas kept his eyes closed, lying back in pure submission, letting out little whimpers and murmurs whenever she thrust inward.

His dick was semi-hard, lolling back and forth on his belly, but she left it alone for now, experimenting with her pace, scrutinizing his reactions with detached curiosity.

“How's that?” she asked, wanting his feedback, but he merely mumbled, causing a swell of irritation.

“Hey!”

She slapped his hip just above the meat of his ass, and his eyes snapped open, peering at her in confusion.

“I don't like talking to myself. How is it? Is it good?”

He nodded timidly, and she pulled out most of the way, slamming back in. All his  resistance had gone, and he was completely open to her, insides moulding to the rubber dick she brandished.

He moaned at her new approach, rewarding her with a jerk of his own hips.

“It's good!” he yelped as she did it again.

“You can….maybe go a little harder even….Oh fuck!”

Donna took him at his word, and set to work in earnest, the whole cell filled the agitated creaking of the rickety bed and the slap of her belly against the back of his legs. He bucked as she leaned forward, driving downward, pulling on his handcuff chain.

“Harder like that?”

“Yeah….jus’ like that….oh shit…”

The muscles in his arms bulged, his back arching, and there was a sudden metallic twang as the upright post he was secured to snapped.

Donna felt a pang of concern at the new development, but Lucas seemed oblivious, grinding his head into the ratty pillow, mouth gaping open.

“Oh….deeper….please…..” he begged.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes! Pleeaase…!”

His cocked jerked upright as she barrelled into him, jerking in response to the battering he was receiving.

Donna took a brief pause for breath and his eyes fixed on her in the respite, looking uncertain.

“What is it?” she asked.

He frowned, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead in little spackles, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Flip me over,” he said.

Although it had the tone of a command, Donna recognised it for the plea it was and nodded, sliding her pelvis back until the pink length was entirely dislodged.

He was weak and malleable as she hooked her fingers under him and rolled him over, utterly given over to her control. He set his elbows into the mattress for support and squared his shoulders, the blades of his scapula standing out sharply like wings.

“Ass up, boy,” she told him, slapping it on the sit-spot, producing a short yelp from him, but he did as he was told. Bracing himself up on his knees, the small of his back dipping in a somehow graceful curve, his neck sloped downwards as he pressed his face into the pillow, his flanks quivering as she ran her hands down them.

Although Donna liked pegging men in the missionary position because of the intimacy it afforded, and the view of each facial contortion, doing it doggy was without compare. She liked the vulnerability of her partner, the trust  implicit in the yielding of power. And the pose - it was reminiscent of worship, bowing down before her.

Not to mention the fact that Lucas has been seemingly so set against the act and was now begging for it with abandon.

Feeling almost affectionate, she ran a hand along his spine, the bumps of his vertebrae a vulnerable Braille under her fingertips. She wondered if he'd always secretly wanted this - wanted to submit, to surrender, to be the Bottom to a skilled Top...

Taking him by the hips, she steered her peg into his asshole, easing in carefully but with less reserve. He'd tensed slightly in the new position, possibly feeling his new status at her mercy, but as she penetrated him he pushed back against her with a groan.

Donna set a more punishing pace this time, and Lucas took it without complaint, even as she drove him face first into the bed. His cries were muffled, alternating between wordless exclamations and pleas for harder, deeper, faster, longer.

The bed juddered beneath them, wobbly legs squeaking and shaking, and her fingers bit into the straining tension of his thighs.

There was a subtle shift in his movements, a slight raise of his head, and the motion  of his hips stuttered tellingly. Donna reached around under him to his still-greasy cock as it slapped against his belly, choking it at the base before jerking her fist along it.

Lucas rolled his head to the side, gasping for breath, the tips of his ears flushed. The fat vein on the side of his slender neck pulsed rapidly.

With a grunt, he threw himself back once more and his cock twitched in her hand, spilling spunk over her knuckles. His linked wrists jingled as he jabbed his fists into the mattress, rocking forward, his spine arching up then crashing down.

With a long-drawn curse that hissed between his lips he collapsed once more, dragging her down with him, her belly burning against the hard curve of his ass.

 

They got dressed quickly and left the cell, Lucas pensive and casting embarrassed glances in her direction that she tactfully pretended not to notice.

“You ain’t gonna tell nobody, right?” said Lucas, hesitating with his hand on the door that led out of the basement.

“Of course not!” said Donna, slightly offended. “My services are entirely confidential.”

Lucas nodded, apparently satisfied.

“Good. Thanks, Donna. Here’s your money.”

He handed her a thick wad of crumpled notes that she stuffed into her purse quickly without bothering to count.

“So. Same time next week then?” she asked brightly.

“Yeah. Same time next week….” said Lucas, opening the door and ushering her out.

Donna turned back.  
"Oh, and by the way, Lucas - if you hit me around the head ever again, I'll use the wide-bore peg on you. Understood?"


End file.
